"I love you with all the strength of my heart!" I cried, weeping. "What must I do to save you?"
"Ah! you would never consent!" he replied, with a discouraged air. "I am the most miserable of men; you are the only woman I have ever loved, Juliette, and when I am on the point of possessing you, my heart, my life, I lose you forever! I have no choice but to die."
"Mon Dieu! mon Dieu!" I cried; "can't you speak? can't you tell me what you expect of me?"
"No, I cannot speak," he replied; "a ghastly secret, a frightful mystery overhangs my whole life, and I can never disclose it to you. To love me, to go with me, to comfort me, you would need to be more than a woman, more than angel, perhaps!"
"To love you! to go with you!" I repeated. "Shall I not be your wife in a few days? You have but a word to say; however great my sorrow and that of my parents, I will follow you to the end of the world, if it is your will."
"Is that true, O my Juliette?" he cried in a transport of joy; "you will go with me? you will leave everything for me? Very well; if you love me as much as that, I am saved! Let us go, let us go at once!"
"What! can you think of such a thing, Leoni? Are we married?" said I.
"We cannot marry," he replied shortly, in a firm voice.
I was stricken dumb.
"And if you will not love me, if you will not fly with me," he continued, "I have but one course to take; that is, to kill myself."